Join the club
by NivalVixen2
Summary: COMPLETE! Derek is human now, the others are following up on Scott's theory about the Benefactor being a Banshee, and Stiles is more of a badass and less of a hyperactive spaz than Derek initially thought. Spoilers up to and including Season 4, episode 8. AU. Sterek


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Wolf.

_Read on, oh faithful ones..._

...

Derek didn't expect a round of hugs or anything when he saw the group of teenagers next, but he had kind of expected something a little less brusque from the group. He received a glare from Stiles, a brief and distracted smile from Scott, a flicker of confusion from Malia, a hesitant wave from Liam, a raised eyebrow from Lydia, and neither Kira nor Peter seemed to be in sight. It looked as though he had arrived at the tail end of a group meeting - it didn't provide any insight into Kira's absence, but it probably explained Peter's; Stiles still didn't trust Peter, and Derek couldn't blame him - and he hung back, unsure if his own presence was welcome or not. He hated the fact that he couldn't hear as well as he had been able to, and barely caught three words out of ten. None of it seemed to make any sense anyway.

"Where the hell have you been?" Stiles demanded after the meeting seemingly finished, still glaring as he stalked over to Derek.

"Trying to heal; what's happened?"

"Oh, y'know, your crazy ex is still in town, still trying to kill us, and now apparently wants Scott's body, _dead or alive_. It's not even the weirdest thing that's happened, and now Kira's off in Palo Alto with her mum in the hospital because of Kate's Beserkers. Which, seriously guys, we need to find a weak spot on those bastards sooner rather than later!" Stiles called over his shoulder.

Lydia raised her middle finger in response, eyes glued to a piece of paper with what looked to be more of the code written on it. Derek frowned, wondering just what the hell had happened in the last week between everyone. Malia was usually standing right next to Stiles, as in, so close the kid could barely breathe, and now she was over at the other end of the room actually glaring at him now and then.

"We're all working on it, Stiles; you know we are," Scott said.

"I got a pretty good look at the top of one when I jumped down on that one at the hospital. Might not all be the same, considering their faces are all different, but it might help?" Liam offered.

Lydia's eyes widened slightly and she led Liam over to a chair, sitting him down and making him tell her everything so that she could draw a sketch of the Beserker.

"Could've said something sooner, Liam," Stiles muttered under his breath. "And _you_, you haven't answered my question properly!" he said, rounding on Derek once more.

"I told you, I was trying to heal," Derek replied.

"You're a _werewolf_, dude. Unless you're not a werewolf anymore?" Stiles added with a frown, looking Derek over.

Derek shifted uncomfortably, trying not to bring attention to his side which was still bandaged and healing (thankfully, there were no signs of infection), but Stiles seemed to hone in on it anyway, lifting his shirt, eyes widening at the sight of the bandage.

"What the hell? Derek, that happened _days_ ago. How long have you been like this? Is it getting worse? Can you even shift?"

Derek bit the inside of his cheek firmly, looking away as he tugged his shirt back down abruptly. Stiles stepped back, rubbing a hand on the back of his head, taking what seemed to be several measured and deep breaths.

"All right, that's fine. We'll deal with it, just like everything else. Welcome to the club," Stiles said, giving him a thumbs up and a sarcastic wink.

Derek didn't even know that winks _could be_ sarcastic.

"What club is that?" he asked, trying hard not to snarl.

"The previously-a-creature-but-now-a-human club. I'm thinking of getting jackets made up; where do you get your leather ones from?"

"We're going to see if we can find Lydia's grandmother, we'll be back later," Scott said, clapping Stiles on the back as he passed them with Lydia and Liam in tow.

"Going to see Peter," Malia added, slipping past without touching Stiles and giving Derek a confused glance.

Derek just turned his own confused expression towards Stiles.

"I'll explain in the car. Let's hurry up before those kids run off and leave us behind. You know they're going to be helpless without us," Stiles said, heading out of Scott's house to his Jeep.

Derek hurried after him, though it made his grazed body ache a bit. He doubted anyone would be considered helpless without him, especially not an Alpha, beta, and a Banshee.

"Right, so Lydia's grandmother, who was in Eichen House actually - another club I'm thinking of starting, I'll have to think of a club catchphrase or something - might be the Benefactor because we tried to pass Scott off as dead, but the Benefactor didn't come to the hospital for visual confirmation, which means they can tell when someone's dead or not. So, Banshee. It's obviously not Lydia, but she thinks her grandmother might've been one because apparently she heard things - hence the stint in Eichen House - and the fact that her supposed ashes were actually mountain ash was a big clue too."

Derek listened intently as Stiles explained everything that had happened, from Deputy Parrish's name being on the list (_we still don't know what he is, and since he's suddenly taken leave for a couple of weeks, I don't think he knows either_) to the Chemist being killed right fucking in front of him by Scott's dad (_scared the everloving shit out of me, dude; I don't know how I feel about the fact that Scott's Dad's gone back for a review and is demanding answers when he returns_), and how that tea had saved their lives (_which, yeah, you probably already heard about considering you were in the hospital and all, but thought you'd still like to know for sure_), and finally, detailing their plan to kill Scott and capture the Benefactor, with Kate and the Beserkers showing up and injuring Kira's mother (_she doesn't heal as fast as she used to, now that she's got no tails left, and I kinda feel like that's my fault, y'know? She'd still have some of her tails if it wasn't for the nogitsune_). He then explained about Lydia's grandmother properly, and how they were going to Eichen House yet again to see if there were any records of her death or what might have happened, how Malia was actually a Hale and probably hated Stiles because he hadn't told her the truth and she was now looking for her mother with Peter's help (_seriously, bad idea all 'round there, but she refuses to listen_). Stiles even told Derek how he was no longer sleeping at night, and Derek wondered if Stiles knew what he was saying anymore, or was just using him as a sounding board. When he was finished, Stiles took a deep shuddering breath and glanced over to Derek, not daring to look away from the road for very long (that's how accidents happen; he's seen the gory photos and detailed reports as his father very conveniently left them lying around when Stiles was going for his own driver's license).

"Your turn, Derek."

"My turn for what?" he asked in confusion.

A car horn blasted them as it overtook Stiles' on-the-speed-limit pace, and Derek was struck with the sudden realisation that if they were in a car accident, he might not survive it. Stiles risked another glance and frowned at the white-knuckled grip Derek had on his poor Jeep's door handle.

"Your turn for telling me everything that's happened with you. I caught you up, now you do the same for me. Let's start with why you're holding the door handle so tight it'd break off if you had your usual strength, how 'bout that?"

Derek looked down at his hand, blinking as if he didn't realise he'd even taken hold of the handle, and slowly forced himself to lessen his grip. _Maybe talking would help provide a distraction? Maybe that's how Stiles got through everything, by incessantly talking to the point where he could no longer hear the voice in his own head telling him he would most likely die?_ It actually seemed plausible with the amount of talking he did.

Derek tried not to flinch when another car overtook them, the driver giving Stiles the finger to which Stiles responded with a cheerful wave and mutter of 'you're going to die going at that speed, asshole!'. (Derek did _not_ laugh at that. Okay, maybe a little.)

He took a breath and started to tell Stiles everything that had happened to him, from trying to help Satomi's pack member and discovering that she was inoculated against the Chemist's virus because of _tea_ (_he had already asked Satomi for another jar of the tea, no matter how awful it smelled, he was going to drink the damn stuff for the rest of his life_ - Stiles laughed at that), to the other assassin arriving in the hospital and the bullet grazing him while Satomi killed the woman (_seriously, the hospital needs to get better security; maybe some actual supernatural people on staff just to deal with everything they have to go through what feels like every other month?_ Stiles made a noise of agreement, but didn't say anything else, letting Derek continue). He admitted that he could no longer shift, even his eyes no longer changed colour now, but Peter was still as strong as ever and how suspicious he was of that, but could no longer tell when his uncle was lying (_yeah, okay, 'always' is a pretty good response to that_, he added when Stiles just raised an eyebrow at him). Derek was quiet as he admitted he was terrified of dying, his name had unlocked the final third of the deadpool, and he wasn't sure if the decline in his power would keep going until he was even _less_ than human, until the slightest graze or wound would be enough to kill him. And finally, Derek told Stiles about Braeden, how she was teaching him to fight with fists and guns, how her morals were ambiguous and she always put herself first because it was obvious that no one else in her life ever had; his voice went quiet as he admitted that they'd slept together, something he'd initiated, and Derek didn't even want to think about why he couldn't bring himself to look Stiles in the fact, didn't want to see his reaction to that.

"Okay, first things first: you're sharing that tea. Try to get us all a jar each or something, because that virus the Chemist infected us all with felt like absolute fucking _hell_. I _still_ feel like it's kicking my ass," Stiles muttered. "Second, the hospital has security cameras that are way too easily broken in into or ruined entirely, and I swear I'm going to put a line of mountain ash around the cage or something. Getting someone supernatural on staff might be a better alternative though; if you get your wolfy powers back, you should totally consider that; they're looking for new volunteers after the whole nogitsune thing - apparently having the hospital decimated twice in less than a year makes the volunteers run for the hills. It's so hard to get good help nowadays."

Derek chuckled at that.

"Third: _never_ trust Peter. Peter's an even bigger douche than Jackson, and as someone that was bullied by Jackson for a third of their life, that's saying something. If I could, I would track Peter because I'm pretty sure that condo he has downtown isn't being paid for now that you're both broke, and he's not staying in your loft, so... where's he living?"

Derek hadn't even thought of that, actually. He frowned and tried to think of the last time he'd seen Peter at the loft.

"He hasn't been at the loft for at least three weeks. Not that I've seen or heard him, at least," Derek admitted.

"Yeah, and I'm the only one that thinks that's suspicious?" Stiles scoffed. "Now, fourth thing... You're going to die one day, we all will. Sure, Satomi might be a few hundred years old, so is Noshiko, and no one actually knows how old Deaton is... Okay, bad example, let me start over on this one." Stiles went silent for a moment, thinking about his response before starting again, "Fourth thing. I'm going to make sure you don't die. I've got a knack for surviving, see? Got all the evidence right here," he said, giving a slight wiggle on the seat and grinning. "And if I can survive this long as nothing but a puny human, then so can you. You might want to start wearing leather again to protect your arms more, because I really hope it doesn't keep declining the way you think it will - I'm like 95% positive it won't - but it's better safe and alive than sorry and dead, right?"

"Right," Derek agreed, trying not to feel so ridiculously relieved that Stiles was promising to keep him alive, even if Stiles was human, and a hyperactive one at that.

"If you want, I'll try to look into something to get your wolf back? I'm going into withdrawals, seriously. I haven't been pushed into a door or wall in weeks, and the last person to growl at me was Malia. That's all kinds of wrong," Stiles said, chuckling. "And now, fifth thing..."

_Braeden. Right_, he thought, steeling himself for the worst.

"I'm glad Braeden's teaching you how to defend yourself now that you can't do it the supernatural way; if you want to go out to the range sometime, I can help you with the shooting part of it. And there's a gym there too. It has dummies and other things you can practise defensive manoeuvres on, so I can show you a few moves... Or you can practise whatever Braeden's been showing you. Sometimes it's helpful to go through the motions without someone else watching and judging you."

"Wait, wait, wait," Derek said, frowning as he looked over at Stiles. "You know how to use guns and do self defense?"

"Uh, _yeah_. Kid of a cop here; hey, have we met before?" Stiles asked, grinning. "You honestly think my Dad would've let me stay in a house that held a firearm without teaching me how to use it so I wouldn't blow my own arm off? And the self defense was something to help with my breathing, calming exercises, that sort of thing. I actually _can_ focus and concentrate on things, y'know. If I take my Adderall," he added. "Sure, it makes my mind feel a little fuzzy sometimes, but it's damn better than feeling like I'm about to vibrate out of my own skin."

"All right," Derek replied, slowly and still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Stiles knew how to wield a weapon. "The range sounds good then."

"Great; I'll text you the details. Can you actually respond to my text this time, y'know, so I know you're agreeable to the time and date, not lying dead in a ditch, something like that?"

"_Lying dead in a ditch?_ You're not my mother, Stiles."

Stiles snorted in response. "Damn straight I'm not, but with the amount of kidnapping's we've both been through, I'd like to know you're actually not being held captive. You lying dead in a ditch isn't too far of a stretch, honestly," he added.

"Yeah, all right. Fine, I'll reply to your text."

"Good, now, fifth thing, part two," Stiles added, ignoring Derek's frown of confusion. He talked quickly, not letting Derek interrupt, and hoped that Derek wouldn't try to throw himself out of the car rather than listen to him. "Be careful about Braeden, all right? She's already told Scott _to his face_ that if the money was good enough, she'd kill him. And I don't know about you, but $25 million is pretty damn good money. I don't want to say she's using you, because I really hope for once in your life that someone you're having sex with _isn't_ using you, but... just be careful, okay? And don't forget you've got a price on your head too, and she's a bounty hunter. If this thing turns sour, then she could be inclined to kill you instead of just set your house on fire or try to kill your friends... But on the part about having sex with her and taking the initiative yourself? Go, Derek," Stiles added quickly, hoping for a smile. "You're allowed to want and have things, including people, for yourself. Might be a werewolf - not so much now - but you're still human, too. Just make sure the people you have are there willingly, okay? No kidnapping allowed."

"I'm all right, Stiles, you can stop with the jokes," Derek said, voice soft.

"You sure? I could think of a couple more."

"I'm sure. I thought of ... well, _most_ of that before I even kissed Braeden, all right?"

"All right. I believe you, big guy. Just try not to bring her in the same room as Scott for a week or two?"

"She's already been in the same room with Scott," Derek pointed out, a little surly and sour now.

"Yeah, back when the Calaveras were paying her to take Scott to that scary ass church in _Mexico_," Stiles said, saying the name with a Spanish accent. "We haven't seen her since then, not since we found out about the deadpool, at least. You haven't seen her with a cassette tape, have you?"

Now Derek was just downright uncomfortable. "No, Stiles, I haven't. I don't have a stereo with a cassette player anyway."

"But your soccer-mum car does," Stiles pointed out. "Anyway, I'll shut up now. We're almost at Eichen... Uh, the main nurse guy in there hates my guts, so I might have to stay outside just so you'll be able to get in without any hassles."

"Why does he hate you?" Derek asked. He was sorely tempted to add '_have you talked to him for more than two minutes?_' but he knew that he was annoyed and didn't really mean the words.

"We're behind on the bills," Stiles admitted - _he hadn't mentioned that with all of the talking he did earlier!_ - and gave a little shrug. "Also, he's a prick who's lack of control in his own life means that he needs to exert it over others in order to feel powerful."

"That's very insightful."

"Spend a week in a mental institution, you learn to watch people and determine their true natures a lot quicker. Possibly also a bonus of having the nogitsune in my head; that bastard was an evil fuck, but he knew how to reduce a person down to nothing more than their pressure point in a matter of seconds. Things kind of filtered in, and sometimes I find myself doing the same as him, like reducing people down, even without meaning to," Stiles admitted, giving a short and hollow laugh as he pulled into the Eichen House parking lot.

"We're talking about this on the way home, Stiles," Derek muttered, aware that Scott and Liam could probably hear them now that the cars were turned off and parked side by side. "You're not leaving it at that."

"Sure thing, big guy. You go with the others, I'm going to stay here and catch up on some z's."

With that, Stiles tilted his seat back and closed his eyes. Derek couldn't believe that Stiles was actually _willing_ to stay behind, but Lydia, Scott and Liam were already waiting for him, and he left the car without protest. They all hoped that it would be as simple as Lydia being given access to Elise Martin's records since she was a family member, and it was allowed by the state (Lydia adding in a murmur that she desperately hoped the person at the reception desk would overlook the fact that she wasn't 18 for another two weeks).

Ten minutes later, they were inside Eichen House and Derek was 100% positive that he knew the exact person Stiles had mentioned. The man was sneering at Lydia, telling her that she wasn't allowed back in the institution, because she was the one that drove Meredith to kill herself. Lydia paled at that, hands trembling by her sides, but her jaw was set and eyes were firm despite the verbal abuse. Derek was tempted to knock the man out for being a complete and utter bastard, and Liam was growling softly in front of him. He put a hand on the teen's shoulder to try to calm him, hoping it would be enough to keep him back even if he knew that he couldn't physically do it.

"Where's your friend? The nutcase that's still behind on his payments?" the man asked, smirking at them, and Derek suddenly found that he still had enough strength to lift one asshole right off the ground.

"Give Lydia the records for Elise Martin. _Right now_," he snarled.

The man's eyes widened slightly and he nodded. Lydia looked impressed when Derek let go of the man, all of them following him down to the old records room in the depths of the building. He pulled out a set of keys, unlocking the door, then the filing cabinet, and after a brief search, shoved three thick manilla folders into Lydia's arms. The man left them alone after that, not even risking a glance at Derek on the way out of the room.

"That was _interesting_," Lydia said, raising her eyebrows. "He didn't even flinch when we were down here last time with Deputy Parrish. You must have scared the shit out of him," she added with a smirk.

"Piss, actually," Scott murmured, grinning distractedly as he started to flip through one of the folders.

Well, Derek couldn't help but feel a little bit proud at the fact he still had enough bark and bite left to scare _someone_ into submission. His arms were trembling and his heart was racing, but for the first time since Mexico, Derek didn't feel weak.

"What are we looking for?" he asked, taking a folder from Lydia.

"Anything written in that code, last known address, photos, anything that might help."

_Well, that narrowed it down_. (God, now he actually _was_ starting to think like Stiles, all snark and sarcasm in his head.)

He just nodded in response and flipped the folder open, trying to read in the dim and horrible lighting. Liam offered his phone, switching the torch app on so Derek could see properly.

"Thanks, Liam," Derek said.

"Thanks for holding me back out there," Liam replied, giving a quick nod before returning to Scott and their folder.

Derek skimmed through pages of what looked to be psychiatrist session evaluations, trying to find something useful. There were a couple of things he put to the side for Lydia to read later, about Elise's dreams and the things she heard, something he thought Lydia would appreciate at another time.

A phone ringing startled all of them, and Derek frowned when he belatedly realised that the ringtone was his. He pulled out his phone and saw that it was Stiles calling him.

"Stiles, what's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"You know that code Lydia found at the lake house?" Stiles asked, voice breathless as if in exertion. "Think I know who's name it is: _mine_."

Derek heard a gunshot ring out through the phone and didn't stop to wait for the others, bolting out of the room and up through the building to get to the parking lot. He had no idea what he would be able to do, what he could do, only that he knew he had to do _something_. Scott and Liam ran ahead, Derek's lungs already burning in his chest and his side irritated and flaming up in pain. He tried to follow their path, but fell behind as they ran faster still, trying to catch up to either Stiles or the person trying to kill him, Derek didn't know. He had to stop to breathe, his legs weak and trembling, and was almost knocked off his feet when Stiles slammed in to him.

"Some bitch is trying to kill me; quick, before she comes back," Stiles said, grabbing Derek's hand and pulling him back down the way he'd come. "Bitch wouldn't even tell me how much I'm worth," he muttered along the way.

Derek wanted to laugh - more incredulous and hysterical than amused - at that.

He redirected their course so they headed back to the records room, and they arrived to find Lydia kneeling on the floor, eyes wide as she stared at the papers that had fallen with the other three's departures. Stiles let go of Derek's hand, rushing over to his friend. While he was only a step behind, Derek found that he already missed the warmth of Stiles' hand in his own, even though it had been somewhat sweaty with all of the running.

"Lydia? Lydia! Hey, Lyds, look at me, talk to me. What's wrong?" Stiles asked, crouching beside her and trying to get her to look at him properly.

She finally looked up at him, eyes still wide and breathing shallowly. "She's alive. I know where she is," Lydia said. "Stiles, Stiles? It's... it's not good. She's not doing this willingly; someone's making her," she added, showing them both the piece of paper.

EMPLEHYDOBEMOS was written across it, over and over, just like Lydia and the blackboard in the classroom a year ago (_or was it_ _longer?_ Stiles mused;_ It felt longer_), and he sat back, letting out a sigh.

"_Somebody help me._"

She nodded firmly. "We have to go back out to the lake house; there's directions there, and I know where to find them."

"We caught her," Liam said, skidding to a stop in the doorway. "But she killed herself with some sort of poison before we could do anything; Scott's calling your dad now," he added, nodding to Stiles.

"Did she tell you how much I'm worth?" Stiles asked.

"Oh... Uh, no. Hey, I thought you said you were human?" Liam added.

"No. What I technically said was that I'm better," Stiles replied, pointing a finger at him.

"Right. So are you still the nogitsune then?" Liam asked warily.

Liam had heard the stories over the past few months, probably read the newspaper articles about the deaths that had occurred in Beacon Hills around that time, and Stiles figured he had good reason to be wary. It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

"Dude, I don't even know anymore. Let's just get out of here. Grab a file, stick it under your jacket," Stiles instructed, handing one to Liam and another to Lydia. "I'll take one since Derek's forgone his usual jacket for a nice spring-green Henley today. Isn't that one from the new season collection?"

"Funny, Stiles."

Stiles smirked at him, shoving a file in the front of his jacket and zipping it up carefully.

"You've got paper sticking out, wait a minute," Derek muttered, shaking his head and readjusting Stiles properly.

"Thanks. C'mon, we need to get these out of here, and I'm pretty sure none of us will be allowed back here even again unless we're patients," Stiles muttered. "As a side note: if any of you do go insane, I'd highly recommend nearly **but** here; their meatloaf is awful."

"Joke later, Stiles. Now, just walk naturally, and we'll be fine," Lydia said, frowning when Liam kind of huddled himself in a weird walk instead. "I said natural, Liam," she hissed.

"I can't, they're slipping," he muttered.

"Good god, man, have you never stolen anything in your life?" Stiles groaned, pulling Liam into a bathroom abruptly.

"Uh, no. IED doesn't go well with kleptomania," Liam sneered.

Stiles snorted a laugh, making Liam relax a bit, and they hurried to get the file arranged in him properly before heading back out. Lydia and Derek were nowhere to be seen, but Liam gave a nod to indicate they were already outside. Stiles and Liam hurried through the corridors, both breathing in relief when they weren't stopped or harassed on their exit. The relief was short-lived however, by the sounds of sirens approaching.

"Shit, that's my dad's cruiser. I'm going to be in so much shit. Quick, let's get these to Lydia's car before we're hauled over for questioning," Stiles muttered.

"Right. Scott told them that he ran after them, and the woman was trying to shoot you," Liam informed him.

"Yep, and everything else happened too fast for me to know what was going on; no idea why anyone would try to kill me, got it. Fuck, I'm going to have to tell my dad I'm on the deadpool. This is going to be bad."

"Why?" Liam asked. "I mean, I get why in general, but it sounds like more than that."

"'Cause I don't even know how much I'm worth, and he's going to think I don't have control anymore."

"Control... over the nogitsune?" Liam guessed.

"Over myself," Stiles muttered, the rest of their conversation cut short as the police car and ambulance pulled up.

Derek stood to the side, still a person of interest despite the Sheriff's best efforts, and kept a close eye on everything that happened. Lydia waited in her car, keeping her eyes lowered in case anyone recognised her from the last few times she'd been at a crime scene. She was surprised to see that Deputy Parrish was there - _what happened to his holiday leave?_ - and when he was alone, she slipped out of the car to talk to him.

"Son, you'd best tell me the truth right now; why was that woman so intent on killing you? I thought we solved the whole nogitsune thing?" the Sheriff asked, one part exasperated, one part wary, and a hundred parts worried.

"We did, Dad. I don't know, all right? She didn't know what I was, and wasn't exactly a fount of information anyway," Stiles muttered.

"All right, son, I believe you. I've got a late shift tonight; I'd prefer you stayed with someone that could protect you if someone else tries to hunt you down," John said, looking over at Derek pointedly.

Stiles hadn't really had time to tell his dad that Derek wasn't on the chessboard anymore, and just nodded in response.

"Everything okay?" Derek asked when Stiles made his way over.

"My dad wants me to stay with someone who'll protect me if someone else tries to kill me; apparently, you've been volunteered for the honour of babysitting me. I mean, is that okay? If you've got plans with Braeden or something, just say the word, and I'll sleep in Scott's bed instead. Not that I'm planning on sleeping in your bed or anything, just uh, sleeping in general on a preferably soft surface. And I'm going to shut up now," Stiles groaned.

"It's fine, Stiles. You take the bed, I'll be on the couch, okay?"

"Right... So, who's going to look after us if someone comes for both of us?" Stiles asked.

Lydia came over a moment later, Parrish a step behind her, and she looked between Derek and Stiles with a slight frown. "Is the questioning over? Can we get going now? We have to get to the lake house before it gets dark if I have any hope of finding the instructions my grandmother left me."

"Yeah, I'm done. I'll probably have to go into the station tomorrow to make a statement once I've recovered from my supposed shock, but yeah, fine for today. Parrish, you're coming with us?"

He nodded briefly. "I am technically still on leave; I heard about this on the scanner and thought I'd check it out, being Eichen House and all."

"Well, thanks for coming," Stiles said with a nod, clapping him on the shoulder. "Liam, Scott, let's get out of here," he added, not bothering to raise his voice since he knew they'd hear him anyway.

Parrish gave the three of them a nod before he went back to his car so he could follow Lydia. Derek headed back to the Jeep without a word of protest, and Stiles hurried after him. Scott and Liam passed them to go to Lydia's car, saying something about reading the stolen files while they were heading up to the lake house.

"Think there'll be anything useful in those files?" Stiles asked, putting his seatbelt on and turning on the Jeep.

"I certainly hope so, for Lydia's sake as much as anything," Derek added.

"Yeah. Hey, thanks for making sure I didn't get killed."

"No problem; didn't do much, really," he said, shrugging it off.

"Yeah, you did," Stiles said, sounding so certain that Derek didn't even bother trying to argue it again.

They were silent as they followed Lydia and Parrish's cars, and when they were on the main road again, Derek looked over to Stiles.

"You ready to finish our earlier discussion?" Derek asked.

"Do I have to?" Stiles whined.

"After someone just tried to kill you? Hell, yes."

Stiles sighed heavily. "Fine, have it your way... The nogitsune's gone, captured, back in the Nemeton; we all know that, we were all there, saw it happen, etc., right?"

Derek nodded, not wanting to interrupt and make Stiles lose focus.

"Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it's still in my head. Not like before, not as constant, not trying to cause chaos and kill everyone again; but more like I can see things about people, the way the nogitsune did. If I think about it, I can actually access the nogitsune's memories, like they're locked away in my own brain somewhere, and I still know how to create a bomb using nothing more than a clock, some household detergents, and wiring. I know all of these things that the nogitsune knew, and sometimes I find myself walking into a room and working out just where I'd need to place a bomb to cause the most amount of damage. Windows for superficial damage, doorways for interior structures, in the middle of a classroom to cause the most amount of deaths. The nogitsune was in my head and body for weeks, and it had my own ability to Google-fu, but it went to the scarier parts of the Internet. The sites that not even me on my worst day would actually look at seriously, and now all of that information's in my head, even if it's no longer in my browser history. I can't forget any of it, and I can list at least four people that would launder dirty money, no questions asked, right off the top of my head. It's scaring the fuck out of me, and I don't know what to do."

Derek stayed quiet as Stiles trailed off, tears in his eyes as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"I'm afraid that I'm not myself - not completely, at least - that the nogitsune's still in there, despite locking it back in the Nemeton. I'm fucking terrified that I'll lose control over myself, and he'll come back to finish the job and kill everyone I love," Stiles admitted, voice breaking.

"I won't let that happen, Stiles. I won't let the nogitsune take you again, okay? I'll stop it, just like you'll keep me alive, all right?"

Stiles hiccuped a bit, hurrying to wipe his eyes on the back of his sleeve, and nodded firmly. "All right, Derek."

There was such conviction and belief in his voice that Derek promised himself he wouldn't let Stiles down. He couldn't.

...

Lydia found directions written in her grandmother's spidery handwriting, the map slightly yellowed in age, and the blue ink faded to a reddish colour instead. As soon as Lydia found it, her eyes glazed slightly and her head tilted to the side.

"Gerard."

"What?" Scott and Stiles asked at the same time, Derek echoing them.

"Who?" Liam asked, eyes wide as he stared between them.

"Gerard Argent; Chris' father, Allison's grandfather, and an all-round complete geriatric asshole. Tortured some of us for information we obviously didn't have, set the Kanima on us, threatened Scott's mum's life, tried to kill Scott, and is a hypocritical bastard because he's hunted werewolves for his whole life and then tried to become one because he was dying," Stiles spat out fiercely.

"Right, bad guy. Got it."

"How's Gerard involved in this, Lydia?" Derek asked, though he wanted to interrogate Stiles, ask him just who Gerard had tortured, because it was the first he was hearing about it. From the expression on his face, Scott didn't know about it either.

"He's pulling the strings, and the Banshee's nothing more than a puppet," Lydia murmured, voice dazed and distant. "The puppet's strings stretch far, but the Banshee's scream only echoes the Beacon."

"As creepy as all that sounds, can we go confront the bastard and get this over with?" Stiles asked. "You know how to get where he is, right, Lydia?"

"No. But he does," she said, pointing into the dark doorway.

Chris stepped out, Liam growling slightly at the hunter's unexpected presence, but Scott put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"It's all right, Liam; Chris is going to help us. Aren't you, Chris?" Scott asked firmly.

Chris eyed Parrish curiously, as if trying to determine what he was through sight alone, then turned to Scott and nodded.

"The Banshee's not the only one Gerard's controlling; it seems Kate's found out that he's the Benefactor, and he's got his claws in her again. Deeper this time, and now, she's not going to stop the Beserkers from killing me."

The silence was heavy in the air for a long few seconds, then Stiles clapped his hands together once, startling everyone and seeming to break Lydia's reverie.

"Great, let's head off for the family reunion; I'm sure Lydia's eager to meet her grandmother and get all Banshee-y. Chris, I hope you're packing enough to kill one of those Beserkers this time? Liam, why don't you tell him about the weak spot you noticed on that one's head while we head wherever this map leads?"

"Along the way, can someone explain to me what a Beserker actually is?" Parrish asked.

"I can do that," Chris offered. "Kid, you're travelling with me and Parrish. Scott, you're okay with Lydia?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," Scott said with a firm nod.

"Great, everyone's got their car buddy. Take your car buddy's hand, and make sure to look both ways before crossing the road," Stiles said, taking Derek's hand firmly.

"Shut up, Stiles," Chris said, rolling his eyes and leaving.

Liam and Parrish hurried after him, Lydia and Scott following. Stiles didn't let go of Derek's hand as he tugged him out of the lake house and back to the Jeep.

...

An hour and a half later, the sun had started to set, the world was darkening, and Stiles had a gun pointed at his face.

"Again?!" he groaned under his breath.

Gerard just sneered at Stiles, and he wanted nothing more than to kick the old bastard in the stomach and run, but didn't want to risk setting the gun off. Stiles didn't know where the rest of the pack had gone to risk something like that, so he stood his ground and glared at the old man.

"Didn't see you at Allison's funeral, you geriatric asshole."

"With you lot there, are you really surprised?" Gerard asked. "I happen to be attached to the idea of living," he muttered, wiping at the black ooze seeping out from his mouth.

"Yeah, right, if you call **that** living. You're _leaking tar_, you fucker," Stiles said in disgust, stepping back with a wince.

Gerard's nostrils flared as he stepped forward, anger in his eyes. "I should have beat you to death and blamed it on your werewolf friends, boy," he snarled, cocking the gun's hammer.

"Y'know, you're right: you should have killed me when you had the chance," Stiles muttered, reaching back and pulling a gun out, hidden in his waistband, and pointed it directly at Gerard.

The old man scoffed. "You're not going to shoot me; you don't have it in you to be a killer," he sneered.

Stiles tilted his head to the side. "You've got know idea what I've got in me," he snarked, and pulled the trigger.

"Stiles!" Scott screamed.

A roar followed a few seconds later, and Stiles frowned because he knew Scott's roar, and that sure wasn't it. It sounded more like ... _Derek?_

He held the hot gun out to his side, finger close to the trigger but not enough to accidentally shoot himself, and Stiles waited for the next appearance, whether friend or foe. It was Derek, eyes glowing gold as he panted heavily, claws extended and covered in blood.

"Stiles? You're... you're okay?" Derek queried, still breathing with difficulty, and Stiles could see the already-healing scratches on his arms courtesy of Kate's Beserkers.

"Fucking hell, Derek; that was insane," Scott said, eyes wide as he came to a stop beside him.

"What did I miss?" Stiles asked with a frown, looking between them.

"Derek just _lost it_ when we heard the gunshot; he killed Kate - which incidentally made the Beserkers disappear - and then came racing in here. And dude, you've got your werewolf powers back!" Scott said excitedly, grinning at Derek.

Derek nodded briefly, then looked to Gerard's bleeding form on the floor. "What are we going to do with him?"

Gerard wheezed through another sickening ooze of black liquid, and Stiles glared down at the man, wishing he'd shot him in the heart, instead of his leg. But Gerard needed a heart for Stiles to be able to shoot him in it first.

"Where's the others?" Stiles asked.

"Chris and Liam were outside fighting a Beserker, so they should be here soon. Lydia and Parrish left to find her grandmother, I'm not sure if they did," Scott said, mere seconds before Parrish ran into the room, bloody marks clawed down his chest.

"We found Lydia's grandmother. She's about to scream; is everyone all right?" Parrish asked, looking between them all.

"We're fine; Liam's already healing," Chris said, carrying the young boy into the room and ignoring his protests easily.

"Since when do you carry a firearm, Stiles?" Parrish asked, seeing the gun in his hand.

"Since the Chemist shoved the barrel of a gun against my forehead and Agent McCall blew his brains out across my face... Don't worry, I passed my psych evals, and I'm legally allowed to carry my own weapon," Stiles muttered.

"Good thing, too," Derek muttered, eyes gold as he growled at Gerard.

Lydia appeared a moment later, an elderly woman standing beside her, a fierce expression in her eyes despite her haggard clothes and smudged face. It was the look of a Martin as much as a Banshee, and beside her, Lydia's mouth was trembling, eyes wide as she stared at them all.

"Are you sure, Gramma?" she asked quietly, drawing the wolves and Parrish's attention, Stiles and Chris looking over as well.

Elise nodded firmly, pulled away from her granddaughter with a determination that surprised a few, and stalked forward. She disarmed Stiles, and before he could stop her, Elise turned and shot Gerard between the eyes, his name a scream on her lips and echoed by Lydia.

"Ma'am? Can... Can you give the gun to me, please?" Parrish asked, hands held out towards her cautiously.

"I'm of sound mind, young man; there is no need to treat me otherwise. Stiles, here's your gun back; thank you for the loan," Elise said with a brief nod. "Now, which one of you fine young men is going to escort me home? I have a few things to discuss with my daughter-in-law before she attempts to sell my home."

"I'll drive you, Gramma."

"Nonsense, Lydia; these men are all strong and handsome enough to drive us somewhere, and besides, you're trembling like a leaf. We'll be getting that under control sooner rather than later, you hear me?"

"Yes, Gramma," Lydia said. "Parrish, would you drive us, please?"

"Of course. Uh, this way, Mrs. Martin," Parrish said, offering her his arm as escort.

"Oh, yes; you'll do _very_ nicely," Elise said, taking his arm and smiling in a way that made Lydia let out a small sob of despair and embarrassment.

"I'll call your dad, Stiles; Chris, help us come up with a cover story?" Scott asked, heading out with his phone to call the Sheriff.

"Gerard was here trying to kill you in an effort to get revenge on Derek and Scott for Allison's death. He was holding you at gunpoint and I shot him," Chris said, nodding when he looked at everyone to ensure they all had the simple story committed to memory. "Everyone knows that Kate's meant to be dead though; Liam, how do you feel about moving dead bodies?"

"Better when they're actually dead," Liam muttered, rotating his arm with a wince.

"You did well to take on that Beserker for as long as you did," Chris complimented, guiding him out of the room to Kate's body.

"Well; I'm not sure how I feel about having someone threatening to kill me twice. Just glad they're not following through," Stiles muttered to Derek.

Derek nodded briefly, glancing at Gerard's body.

"So... You're out of the club now, I guess?" Stiles asked, grinning briefly. "No longer human, I see," he added, nodding to his claws.

"I... I thought you'd been killed," Derek said softly, looking up from Gerard to Stiles. "I heard the gunshot, and I thought... I thought he'd killed you, Stiles," he said, voice breaking.

"Shit. Don't... Um, I'm alive, okay? Told you, I have a knack for surviving," Stiles said, trying to grin as he wrapped his arms around Derek's ribs, hugging him firmly.

Derek inhaled, deep shuddering breaths, and clung to Stiles.

"I heard that gunshot, and like Scott said, I just lost it. I killed Kate with my bare hands, and I still don't even know how," Derek admitted, giving a half-hysterical laugh. "I couldn't bear the thought of you dying, I had to do _something_, and she was there _laughing_, and I just lost it completely. Thought I'd lost you," he murmured against Stiles' temple.

Stiles shook his head briefly. "No chance of that, Der. I'm sticking around 'til you get sick of me."

"Might be a while; haven't gotten sick of you yet."

"I'm not trying hard enough, obviously," Stiles said with a snicker.

Derek rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the grin that formed.

"So... you killing Kate brought your wolf back?" Stiles asked curiously.

"Seems that way."

"And you killed her because you thought I'd been killed?"

"_Yes_," Derek replied, wary because hadn't they already discussed this?

"So, do you like me, then? I mean like-like, not just like and put up with me, but like enough to make out with and maybe have sex with someday? In the very near future," Stiles added hopefully.

"You're really bringing this up in front of a dead body?" Derek asked.

"He's dead; he can't hear what I'm saying! And that wasn't a no. Or a yes, admittedly, which actually doesn't help. So, any chance you're willing to answer and put me out of my misery? 'Cause I've gotta say, this whole crush I've got going is just getting more embarrassing by the second, especially since I've just realised that Scott and Liam can probably hear this. Fuck. If either of you bastards tease me, I'm going to poison you with mistletoe, you hear me?" Stiles called out to the room in general.

Derek tried not to laugh when he heard Liam answer in the affirmative quickly, and Scott just snorted in response. "They got the message, Stiles."

"Good. Now, I'm just going to pretend the last five minutes didn't happen and - "

Derek rolled his eyes and shut Stiles up with his mouth. It was a surprisingly effective way to make him fall silent, and Stiles pulled away a moment later, licking his lips and blinking a few times.

"_Holy fuck,_" he said, mouth dropping open in shock.

"What? What's wrong?" Derek asked, alarmed.

"Never mind you; Braeden's going to _kill __**me!**_ Shit... You'll have to protect me from her. And Malia too, probably. I'm keeping you in my room until things cool down, okay?"

Derek blinked at that. "You're keeping me in your room to protect you? Not for any other reason?" he asked, grinning a little as comprehension dawned on Stiles' face.

"Oh, that too. There'll be plenty of that. Think anyone will deliver lube so we don't have to leave the room?"

"I think that's a little more than I wanted to know about your plans for the weekend, son," John said, eyebrow raised as he looked between Stiles and Derek, who were both blushing.

"Actually, never mind; Braeden can kill me now," Stiles groaned, turning to bury his head against Derek's shoulder.

"Hello again, sir."

"We'll be talking later, Derek. Stiles, before anyone else gets here, why don't you tell me what actually happened?"

"Gerard was the Benefactor, he threatened to kill me, and I shot him in the leg. Lydia found her grandmother - Banshee; runs in the family, I guess - and Elise killed Gerard. He's been using her to hunt down other supernatural creatures. Trying to kill every last creature since he couldn't become one, I'd guess."

"All right. You've all got your stories straight?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yep. And we'll need to get Chris to hold onto my gun at some point," Stiles added, realising it didn't have his fingerprints on it for the bullets to match.

"That can be arranged. I'm glad you took my advice to carry it with you," John said, looking at Gerard's body and not knowing how to describe how he was feeling at that moment.

"So am I, Pops," Stiles murmured. "Do I get another day of reprieve?"

"After two deaths in one day? Not likely, kid. You'll still need to come into the station tomorrow, but it may be sooner than that now. I'll call you if you're needed to give a statement today."

"Right. I promise I won't skip town," Stiles said. "We're sticking with the original plan from this afternoon: Derek's going to guard me, 'cause I'm on the list now, and I don't trust Braeden not to try and kill me. Or Peter, for that matter," he added with a mutter.

"You made the list?" the Sheriff asked, eyes wide. "I thought that woman was just trying to kill you because you were associated with Scott and the others? You said that the nogitsune was still resolved."

"It is! I promise, it is. I... I just don't know what I am anymore, Dad, okay? I'm trying to work it out, I am. I'll let you know the minute I know, honest."

John sighed, rubbing his temples firmly. "All right, son. Just, _stay safe_. Let me know where you are, and that you're there safe, okay?"

"No problem, Pops."

"Stiles? How much are you worth?" John asked, trying to offer him a smile as he watched him leave with Derek.

"A guy like me? I'm _priceless_," Stiles said with a grin over his shoulder.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!


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